Yes, this is Norah in my sunglasses, and yes, she is wearing my mom's dog's collar. I'm sure I'm not supposed to let her wear dog collars, and I'm sure she would have choked within five seconds had we not rescued her from it. But it had a safety release buckle in case Gracie tries to hang herself or something, so whatever - the Nonos was fine. And as sick as this is, she LOVED IT. She has some plastic Mardi Gras beads that she wears nonchalantly around the house, her expression clearly saying, "Yes, I look pretty, but I make the beads. The beads do not make me." But the dog collar sent her into fits of giggles, and she kept streaking the house in her jammies shouting, "I'M GRACIE! I GO WOOF! OOF! OOF! I EAT POOOOOD!' (I'm fairly sure that POOOOOD is just her version of FOOOOOD. Sure it is. Right.)
Anyway. I have a wedding tomorrow and bridals and a consultation on Sunday, and preschool class pictures next week, and the photography gods are either smiling on me or puking on me, depending on how many hours I've been sitting in front of the 'puter. Tomorrow's wedding is a sub-contract job for another formerly local photographer, Kate, whose husband uprooted the family and moved them all to Nawlins. Granted, the uprootery was justified because his new job? SO AWESOME, but the best part is that the weddings Kate had booked here have been transferred to me. All's I have to do is show up, shoot, and mail CDs to her, and a happy little check comes prancing back to me. I wish them all the best in their new home state, but oh boy am I glad they're gone.
So I'm tired, and the house needs to be cleaned in preparation for my friend Victoria, who's staying with the Nonos while Rob's at work, and the laundry pile is consuming most of my bedroom like a hungry hungry hippo after a marble. And yet here I am, blogging. I'm attached to you, internet friends, and so I will LET you distract me from my VERY important housework. Feel blessed.